


Heavy

by HannahSheree



Series: Don't Weight [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahSheree/pseuds/HannahSheree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian isn’t disordered; he’s French. And French people don’t have breakfast, have a nice lunch, and then a light supper. But Sebastian skips the supper bit, and only has lunch on days that he runs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Contains eating disorders, specifically anorexia. And possibly written in a very triggering way. If you are at all triggered by this topic DO NOT READ. Also, if you have an ED, please get help. [If you’re in Australia, I can direct you to a number of clinics and helplines as I’m doing my thesis on EDs, as well as have suffered from disordered eating myself.]
> 
> Note: There will be a sequel on recovery coming.

Sebastian doesn’t know what the weather in Ohio is usually like (and he can’t be fucked looking it up, frankly), but he’s pretty sure that the current weather is shit for anywhere. It’s raining… what was the English saying? Cats and cows? It was raining a fucking lot, okay. And there was thunder. And lightning. And ridiculous winds that rattled the windows.

He’s lying in bed with Hunter. Despite sleeping together frequently, including last night, they rarely actually sleep in the same bed. After all, they’re growing boys and the single beds Dalton gives them does not afford them much room on their own, let alone whilst sharing. But last night, even through his electric blanket, Sebastian had been shivering, and Hunter had crawled into bed at about 2am, saying he couldn’t sleep with how loudly Sebastian’s teeth were chattering. Sebastian had managed to fall asleep then, finally warm, and apparently so had Hunter.

It’s 6am. A sleep in for him, given it’s a Saturday. He looks over Hunter’s shoulder and glares at the awful weather outside. Great. He has to run in that. He’s pretty sure it’s raining sideways. Whatever, it has to be done. He slowly eases out of Hunter’s arms, missing the warmth as soon as he’s off the bed.

“No.” Hunter growls from the bed, eyes opening into small slits, glaring at Sebastian through sleep.

“No, what?” Sebastian asks, smiling down at him as he pulls his running shorts out of one of the drawers under his bed.

“No, you’re not going running this morning.”

“Why not?”

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there, Smythe. Missing one run won’t kill you. So get back in the fucking bed and sleep. You need it.”

Sebastian quirks his lips into a smile. Honestly, the bed seems nice. Hunter in the bed seems nicer. It’s fine. He can miss this run. He’ll just skip his lunch today. He smirks at Hunter and crawls back into bed, pulling the blankets over his shoulders as he straddles him and gives him a languid morning kiss.

*

The rain doesn’t ease for four days. Sebastian is going stir-crazy. He hasn’t been running in four days. The power at Dalton has been shifty in the storms, and the gym’s power is out entirely. The treadmill option is out. The indoor training fields are out of bounds without teachers present, and they’re short-staffed because the roads have flooded and nobody can get in or out of Dalton. Long story short, lack of staff means that opening the indoor training grounds are low priority right now. So he can’t run on those either.

He’s tempted to run outside in the rain regardless of what Hunter says. Sebastian only eats on days he runs for at least ninety minutes, and thanks to this rain he hasn’t eaten in four days. He’s smoking nearly constantly to keep the pangs at bay, and he’s not sure how he’s the only one who is so fucking cold. Seriously, he should just go running outside, and then he can eat.

But when he tries to, Hunter catches him and says he will tie him to a chair if he tries that. Sebastian is his vice-captain, and he can’t afford to have his vice-captain catching pneumonia. So Sebastian stays inside and lets Hunter fuck him. Sebastian is only half there though, just enjoying the body warmth.

*

Sebastian doesn’t have an eating disorder. Eating disorders are for girls, usually girls with daddy issues. Sebastian isn’t disordered; he’s French. And French people don’t have breakfast, have a nice lunch, and then a light supper. But Sebastian skips the supper bit, and only has lunch on days that he runs.

Instead, Sebastian drinks coffee (black, with loads of splenda to make it slightly more palatable), and smokes whenever he can get away with it. Smoking soothes the jittery, anxious feeling he gets from hunger, soothes the hunger pangs as necessary.

He’s not trying to lose weight. He’s just trying to maintain his shape. He likes having slim legs, loves the feeling of Hunter being able to wrap both of his hands around one of his thighs, fingers touching and meeting in the middle. He loves being light enough to lift easily, loves that his skinny jeans fit perfectly. Other guys like his shape, and Sebastian likes it too.

He’s not trying to lose weight. But American food is shit and loaded with horrible, horrible things, and he doesn’t want that shit in his body (he thinks with a trace of irony as he smokes his half pack a day). So he runs every day without fail, and then he lets himself eat lunch. Nobody questions his lack of dinner, and everyone assumes he’s not a morning person because he only comes to breakfast for the last twenty minutes, where he nurses his coffee. Hunter notices, because he’s his roommate and he’s fucking observant, but he doesn’t say anything, just kisses Sebastian’s concave stomach and slim thighs.

He’s not trying to lose weight. But if the weight happens to come off, that’s fine. It just makes him look better anyway. Pfft, as if he could get more attractive (you can’t top perfection after all).

*

On the fifth day the hunger pains stop entirely. Sebastian is grateful because he was starting to run low on cigarettes, and unless the roads clear soon he’s going to run out entirely. And running out of cigarettes is not an option.

It hits the seventh day without food when he collapses in the middle of a Warblers rehearsal. The rain had stopped on the fifth day, and Sebastian had started running on the muddy fields, but… he’s not hungry now, so he sees no point in starting to eat again. His head actually feels clear, and whilst his legs protest his running, his mind feels free.

They’d been sitting, drinking water after doing a full run-through of their Regionals routine, having a small break. Hunter calls the end of the break, and Sebastian stands up quickly, happy enough to get back to rehearsal and… black spots appear in his vision, his heart races faster than it should and he doesn’t really remember the rest.

He wakes up on the floor, head pounding, and sees faces bending over him, feels a painfully hot hand on his forehead, someone tugging his tie off and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. Judging by his closeness, he guesses it’s Jeff. Everyone else seems further back, standing to the side and he thinks he heard Hunter say something about giving him air. Through blurry eyes he sees eyes, eyes everywhere and hears Hunter’s voice saying “Yes, pillow under his head is fine. As long as his feet stay higher, the pillow is fine.”

Fine. Yes, yes, he’s fine. He shoves the hands away and moves to sit up, the words “I’m fine, I’m fi-“ on his lips. He finds himself falling back, but a strong hand is behind his head this time. He’s lowered back to a pillow, and the world actually seems darker. He lets out a small sound of protest.

“Alright Smythe,” Hunter’s steady voice cuts through the fuzzing in his ears, almost comforting in its surety. “I want you to squeeze my hand.” Sebastian blinks dumbly for a few seconds, because he’s not sure what Hunter’s talking about but then he feels Hunter’s hand in his, cool and solid. “Squeeze, Smythe.” Hunter orders, voice cool and commanding. Sebastian manages to squeeze and feels Hunter squeeze back.

“Good. Can you understand me?” Sebastian manages a small nod. “Good. Now, you’re going to lie there and drink some water until some colour returns to you. Then, you’re going to roll onto your side and sit up slowly. After that, we’ll get you to sit for a bit longer and if you can walk, we’ll take you to the nurse. Understand?”

Sebastian nods, wants to argue, but he just feels… tired. He desperately wants to sleep.

Instead, he lies there, sips the water bottle that Jeff has brought him and closes his eyes and ears to the world around him.

Hunter is the one to take him to the nurse, saying he figures it best because Sebastian is his roommate and he can take Sebastian back after that. He gives Nick and Jeff run of the Warblers, and were Sebastian in a better frame of mind he’d be disappointed he was missing a rehearsal run by them.

*

The nurse tells him his blood pressure is low, and his heart beat is very slow. When she takes his temperature she gives a little frown and looks down at him.

“Mr Smythe, your temperature is a little low. Do you feel cold?”

“I’m always cold.”

She hmms. “Show me your hands, Mr Smythe.” He does and she hmms again. “I’m going to write a script for you to get some tests done.”

“Why?”

“I’m thinking you have anaemia. But I want to look at some other things as well. Can Mr Clarington take you this afternoon to get the tests?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Hunter says from where he stands at the door, arms still folded across his chest. “Do you mind if I borrow your car?” He asks Sebastian who just nods, only half aware of the world around him. He’s really very cold right then, despite the heated blanket around his shoulders. 

She prints a piece of paper for the local blood clinic and gives it to Hunter. “According to your file, your insurance will cover this.” She pauses. “One more thing, Mr Smythe.” She slides a scale out from under her desk with her foot.

“No.”

“Please, Mr Smythe?”

“No.” No. He won’t. He’s not touching the fucking scales. He’s not some fucking girl with eating problems, okay?

“Do it, Sebastian.” He hears Hunter growl and his insides curl into themselves and he knows that they know.

He swallows around a lump in his throat.

“If you want, you can face the other way.” She tells him kindly.

No. Sebastian isn’t some weakling. He kicks off his shoes and steps onto the scales, but does not look down. She puts the number into the computer and grimaces.

“Thank you, Sebastian.” She says softly. “I can’t decide if it’s fortunate or unfortunate, but your BMI isn’t low enough that I have to force you into seeing a counsellor. Five more pounds, however…” She is still grimacing at him, and Sebastian honestly just wants to be sick. And Hunter. Hunter is there. He has a feeling that’s part of her evil master plan though. “I want you back here, first thing Monday and Thursday mornings for the next few weeks, before breakfast.”

“I’ll make sure he shows up.” Hunter says and Sebastian can’t help but feel betrayed.

Sebastian feels sick when Hunter puts a hand on the small of his back and leads him out of the school infirmary. He isn’t at all comforted by the hand on his back. 

*

When Monday arrives and Sebastian has dropped another two pounds and his test results show deficiencies in every direction, Hunter tells Sebastian quietly that he’s in charge now.

Sebastian doesn’t quite have the energy to fight.


End file.
